A Second Chance
by Demigod of Magic
Summary: A plan during the twenty year reunion of Harry's surviving class allows four people to travel back through time to their past bodies, to change the timeline from going the way it did. EWE, non-canon compliant.


Harry sighed with regret as he stared at the letter addressed to him, reading the writing which was a neat scrawl.

_Dear Mister Potter_

_As you know, the twenty year reunion of your class is upcoming. It would be a great honour if you would give a speech to the others from your class, both as a classmate and as the Man-Who-Survived. _

_The Floo Network will allow you entry to my office, should you agree. Please be here by six, should you wish to give the speech._

_Kind regards,_

_Headmistress Clearwater._

Below the first letter was another, this one from Hermione, as Harry could instantly tell by the immaculate style.

_Harry_

_Stop ignoring me. Stop ignoring the other letters. We miss you, now come to the reunion._

_Hermione._

He sighed again. He had not seen Hermione or Ron in years, him being busy with his job as an Auror, her being Ron's carer ever since his breakdown. He and Ginny had ended around the same time, leaving him to be alone.

'It would be good to see everyone again' he mused to himself, before he decided. He would be there.

The days passed relatively uneventfully until the day of the reunion, and Harry dressed in his finest dress robes, black with a curved high collar, completed with a bottle-green waistcoat that complemented his eyes.

He grabbed a pinch of Floo powder from his stash and stepped into his fireplace. "Hogwart's Headmistress' Office," he enunciated as he dropped the powder, before the emerald flames engulfed him, and the feeling of high speeds embraced him.

The speed stopped as quickly as it felt, and Harry stepped out of the fireplace as he glanced around. Dumbledore's trinkets had gone, replaced with thick tomes and hastily scrawled notes. The portraits of Dumbledore and McGonagall gave polite nods, while Snape's surveyed him with shifty eyes. His thoughts on Dumbledore had changed, from admiration, to anger at being sacrificed, to admitting he would have made the same choices in his place.

"Hello, Mister Potter," a female voice sounded, and Harry looked to see Headmistress Clearwater behind her desk, her face lacked the surprise Harry expected at bursting through unannounced. Her blonde, curly hair fell neatly behind her back, styled nicely against her sapphire blue dress. "I appreciate you being here."

"My pleasure," he returned civilly. "Wouldn't miss it." He neglected to say that he would have happily missed this whole event and forget the war rather than live in constant reminder of the past.

"Would you like to make your way to the Great Hall? The staff will be there already, soon to be joined by the Minister and reporters, your class will be the final set of people to arrive." Penelope eyed him, "I assume you have a speech prepared?"

"Of course," he lied, as he left the office. Considering he had not stepped foot in the castle since he graduated, he navigated the halls with a unexpected ease until he stepped into the Great Hall.

The enchanted ceiling was displaying a bright sunlight, likely to contrast the sombre mood that would occur.

He glanced around the staff table recognising nobody but Padma Patil who smiled and made her way over to Harry, her Ravenclaw blue dress shimmering as she walked.

"Harry," she greeted. "Penelope said she wasn't sure if you would come." Harry's brain stuttered, before he realised he knew Penelope as Headmistress Clearwater.

"Thought it would be good to see everyone gain," he explained. "Will Parvati be joining us?"

Padma grimaced and Harry instantly regretted his attempt at conversation. "You haven't heard," she said in sad disbelief. "Parvati went looking for Lavender after she was turned to a werewolf and disappeared. And Parvati-" Padma's voice cracked and she paused before continuing, "She found Lavender… on a full moon," she trailed off, as her eyes glistened "I always wish I was there to stop it all."

"I'm sorry," Harry replied genuinely. "I had no idea." His mind wandered at the rest of the people that were lost as a result of the war. He made a wise attempt to change the subject. "You were at the staff table, what do you teach?"

Padma laughed at the lack of subtlety. "Defence Against the Dark Arts," she answered. "Have been for years now."

"Ah." He stopped as he realised he had little more to say. "I feel like I don't recognise anybody here."

Padma eyed him sceptically. "You sure you don't recognise the Potion professor?" she joked. "I thought he'd be the first you saw."

Harry shifted his attention back to the staff table and quickly spotted the individual Padma referred to. His blond hair was held firmly in a precisely placed ponytail, his cheeks as pointed and aristocratic as they did in his younger years. His dress robe was surprisingly modern, almost resembling a mercury silver suit, which Harry could immediately place as the exact shade of his eyes.

"Malfoy." Harry said.

"Professor Malfoy, Head of Slytherin and Potions professor," Padma corrected. "And he's coming this way."

Harry looked up in shock, Malfoy was there, directly in front of him.

"Harry," he acknowledged curtly, the word sounded as odd to Malfoy from his mouth as it did to Harry in his ears. His hand was extended for an amicable handshake.

"Draco," Harry returned. He took the offered hand and shook, his eyes briefly flicking to the other arm, or rather lack of it. Draco's left arm was now a stump ending above where his elbow would be, the sleeve of his dress robe removed and neatly stitched together.

Draco sneered at the glance at the stump. "I got tired of seeing his Mark every day. So I removed it, the only way that seemed fool proof," he explained.

"Ah." Harry realised that seemed to be his sound when he had no idea of what to say. "I heard you teach Potions now. And Head of Slytherin."

"Correct. I heard you work as an Auror to stop and Dark Wizards." Harry nodded mutely, unsure to acknowledge Draco's past. "I always thought you'd keep doing that. Saving people, by stopping people. I suppose I do the same in a way, I try to teach my Snakes that they are not defined by their bloodline or House."

Harry made a vague noise of approval, almost thankful when the Great Hall doors opened and reporters and politicians entered, Harry seeing Dennis Creevey holding a camera following a reporter, and the Minister for Magic, Susan Bones, who was already being accosted by the press.

Draco spoke as he eyed them. "I suppose we should return to the staff table."

The pair walked in silence, to the table where Harry loitered feeling out of place. "I suppose your speech will start when the others arrive?" Draco questioned.

Harry shrugged. "I assume so." He realised this was simultaneously the nicest and longest conversation the two had shared.

The doors opened again, and this time a steady stream of people entered. Harry spotted Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein, behind them Michael Corner walked hand in hand with Sue Li. Hannah Abbot and Ernie Macmillan soon followed. Seamus and Dean walked together, laughing as Harry remembered them doing long ago. Hermione entered, leading a dormant looking Ron. Hermione gave him a quizzical look at his conversation partner. A trickle of people Harry couldn't name entered, but Harry noticed one thing about them all.

"None of them are Slytherin," he thought aloud.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Of course not. None of them wish to be associated, rightly or wrongly, with their part in the war. I, at least, know what I did and try to overcome it."

Hannah Abbot made her way over to the table. "Draco. Harry." She greeted them both.

"Hannah," they replied in unison, much to Harry's surprise.

"You know each other?" Harry asked the pair.

Draco was the one to answer, after Hannah gave him an uncertain glance. "Hannah is Head Healer. She is the one who took care of me after I removed my arm."

"I was always a bit sceptical when people with Draco's past came in," she admitted, "but seeing a bleeding stump in place of an arm definitely cemented where his loyalty lay."

"A good choice, considering what Hannah's mortality rate is for Dark Wizards," Draco grinned.

She shrugged unapologetically, "Sometimes people die on my watch. I tend not to be sad when that happens."

Harry nodded, ignoring the voice in his head that was disagreeing with Hannah outweighed by the voices that agreed. He decided to leave and made his way up towards Hermione and Ron, hugging them both. "You came," Hermione said, her voice a mixture of happiness and surprise.

"Well, you did ask nicely," he joked, before he looked at Ron. Ron's once fiery red hair was not streaked with grey, his pale skin emphasising his freckles. "Is he any better?" Harry had long grasped that Ron didn't even acknowledge when people spoke about him now.

His mind had broken, when he found George hanged in their shop after George didn't come to the Burrow for his birthday. Ron's mind simply went into shock that day, and hadn't changed since.

"No," Hermione answered gloomily. "His mind went a long time ago, his body just hasn't stopped yet."

Penelope Clearwater's voice interrupted conversation, reverberating across the room. "Returning class, if you will all be seated," she ordered.

The long tables seemed almost comical at their almost emptiness, Slytherin table devoid of anybody.

The Headmistress began her speech, which Harry tried his best to ignore, only catching the basis message of resilience and redemption.

Hermione's nudge brought him back to reality and he made his way to the front of the room.

He looked at the few people present, and began his speech, each word a surprise to him. "Hello all. I wish we were here in better circumstances, as a reunion of graduates rather than a band of survivors." The camera flashed brightly, and the reporters' quills recorded his every word. "Because that is what we are, survivors of a war that we were forced into, a war that had consequences more far reaching than they should be. I see people without their siblings, their friends, and family. And I regret that we couldn't stop it all." He stopped considering his next words. "But, we are still here. Let us celebrate the lives we have, and remember the lives gone. Thank you."

The room applauded and Harry retook his seat. He zoned out again as Minister Bones gave a speech, this one about justice and unity.

His thoughts were broken as Padma approached him. "Penelope wants a word with you. In her office." Harry gave an apologetic look to Hermione, but nodded and followed.

"Is she mad about the speech?" he asked Padma, who shook her head.

"Not mad, no. We've been working on something, and frankly, you're the only person that can give us our answer."

The two walked in silence, Harry confused while Padma was determined. Opening the door to the office, Harry noticed Draco and Penelope were already sat waiting behind the desk, an empty chair opposite.

Harry sat in the chair, as Padma conjured a chair next to Penelope. "Padma said you had a question for me?"

Penelope nodded. "Did you mean what you said?" she queried. "That you wish you could have stopped it all?" Draco and Padma both had a look that highlighted the importance of the question.

"Of course. I'd give anything to stop it. For people to live, and have full lives."

Penelope summoned a book from a case, offering to Harry who read. _It is long thought the Founders of Hogwarts were capable of sending a person back through time, however this method has been long lost to history. _"Time travel?" Harry asked. "But you don't know how."

Padma explained, "Until we made a wise choice." She gestured to the Sorting Hat. "And asked the only sentient thing from the Founders' time."

"And is it possible?" Harry asked.

Draco retrieved the Hat and offered it to Harry. "The Hat will explain better than we can."

Harry withered under their expectant looks and placed the Sorting Hart on his head. 'I've been told you have something to explain?' he thought to the Hat.

A mirthless laugh filled his thoughts. 'That I do, Mister Potter,' the Hat replied. 'When the Founders made this school, it was a time of turmoil, when Muggles hunted Magic, so they needed a failsafe. A way to reset if all agreed it was needed. They devised a way to send their memories and magic back to their past-selves, to alter the way any situation could go.'

'So, it's all true. We can change it.'

'You will need somebody from every House, as the Founders agreed was fair, Sorted at the same point in time. Mister Malfoy and Miss Patil have already chosen themselves for their House. I already sense you are the one you will pick.'

The Hat was correct, he would sacrifice himself in a heartbeat for others to live. 'And for Hufflepuff?'

'I believe they are letting that be your choice. If you accept that is.'

Harry removed the Hat. "Hannah Abbot," he said. "Draco trusts her, and we'll need a Healer."

Penelope let out a sigh of joyous relief. "You'll do it?" Draco hurried out of the room to retrieve Hannah.

"I will. Do I need to tell anybody?" he asked.

Penelope shook her head. "If all goes to plan," she explained, "none of this will have happened."

Hannah and Draco returned soon after, her face one of resigned disbelief.

"So, how does this work?" Harry queried.

Penelope ordered them all. "Put your memories in the Hat. It will send them back to the moment you were Sorted."

They all complied, Hannah still in doubt calmed only by Draco's words.

The moment their memories were stored in the Hat, a burst of powerful magic emanated from the Hat, and then there was no more.


End file.
